


turnabout is fair play

by not_ginger



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_ginger/pseuds/not_ginger
Summary: Giving Jack a hard on just minutes before a meeting isn't a fantasy of hers, and even if it is she'll never admit it, but she can't deny how powerful it makes her feel.





	turnabout is fair play

Sam knows the second she opens her office door that Jack is in _that_ mood.

It wouldn't be a big deal, but as it happens she's tired, and annoyed, and just wants this day to end already.

He sits at the head of the table, leaning back into his chair, _her_ chair actually, and plays with a yoyo. A bored Jack is often a challenge. And usually she finds him endearing, especially since now she has more weapons in her arsenal other than simply boring him with techno babble into leaving her and annoying Daniel instead. She will admit, but only to herself, that kissing him works much better, even if it tends to distract her from whatever she's doing as well.

No kisses for him today though. He shouldn't even be here.

She sighs and steps into the briefing room. "General. I believe you're in my seat."

He looks up at her, a smirk appearing on his lips. "Retired. And there's no name tag on this chair. So it can't be yours."

Sam fights the urge to sigh or roll her eyes, she's not sure, and manages to keep her expression carefully blank. The meeting starts in ten minutes, so there's still time. "You know what doesn't have _your_ name on?"

Jack lets go of the yoyo and it goes down before bouncing back up. "What?"

"The desk plate in this office. And do you know whom this office belongs to?"

"Yeah," he grins. "General O'Neill. So I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

Sam puts her hand on the desk and lifts the corners of her mouth just so, giving him the exact smile that puts civilians and officers alike in their place when they're being difficult, or stupid.

Jack's smile slips.

"I haven't _actually_ changed my name, yet, so this office," she points a finger at the open door, "belongs to General Carter. So you are in my seat." She drums her finger on the table, punctuating every word.

It doesn't have the desired effect on him because he carefully puts the yoyo on the table and crosses his arms over his chest, evidently not intending to move. "Maybe, but you're General O'Neill in your heart."

Sam feels her lips twitch and fights the urge to laugh. One of the things she really loves about him is this ability of his to make her smile no matter how bad or tired she feels. "I don't think that's true."

"It is, and let's not kid ourselves, Carter, I've rubbed off on you."

And sometimes she can't keep herself from laughing no matter how hard she tries. He grins at her, clearly pleased with himself.

"Okay, Jack, I'm serious," Sam says, schooling her expression.

He keeps grinning, but doesn't move and Sam considers her options.

She can let it go until everyone arrives and then he'll move because she is the General and it is her seat and it still matters. She can also get him out of her chair by threatening him with a night on the couch.

Or she can play along and make this meeting very uncomfortable for him.

The chair is turned to face the window, so there's just enough room to maneuver.

"Fine," she says, just nice enough to make him wonder what's on her mind, before she takes a step forward. She sees his eyes widen in surprise, _gotcha_ , and then she's sitting in his lap.

"Uh, Carter," he says and Sam grins, enjoying how high pitched his voice sounds.

She wiggles her butt, getting more comfortable. "What?" she says innocently when he groans.

His hands immediately come to rest on her hips, trying to keep her still, but she has the upper hand, and other body parts, so it doesn't work. She hears a soft thud of his head dropping onto the headrest and then he tightens his grip on her. "Stop it."

She wiggles again, just a bit, to let him know he shouldn't expect a fair game. "Stop what?"

"Stop. This," he says through gritted teeth. She can already feel him harden against her. Giving Jack a hard on just minutes before a meeting isn't a fantasy of hers, and even if it is she'll never admit it, but she can't deny how powerful it makes her feel.

"You're sitting in my chair. I'm sitting on you, so technically I'm in my chair," Sam says and glances at her watch. Six minutes. But they will hear the elevator or someone going up the stairs, so they're safe, for now.

Jack groans and wraps one arm around Sam's middle, making her gasp. It brings them closer together now that he's sitting straighter, his chest to her back, and Sam wishes for the umpteenth time the day was over already.

The unfortubate truth is that she fully intended to make this meeting uncomfortable only for him, but now she has no choice but to think that she might have miscalculated. Just a bit.

She's taller than him sitting on his lap and he can't quite reach the bare skin on the back of her neck. Still, he presses his mouth to her shoulder blade and wraps his other arm around her torso. Now she's effectively trapped. Five minutes.

"Well," his voice is a quiet rumble that sends tingles down her spine. "If this is how you want to play this one out, I'm fine with it."

"I want you to get out of my chair." That's not exactly true now, because what she really wants is to take him home, take his clothes off, push him onto their bed, and ride him into oblivion. Or her brain to stop picturing it, that'd be nice too. This whole thing is totally his fault.

"I'd be happy to get up and vacate this chair, but I can't," he says keeping his mouth pressed to her back and she idly wonders if he's going to leave a wet spot on her green jacket. "You see, you're sitting on me."

"I noticed that, yeah," she says, decidedly _not_ breathless. Damn him and the effect he has on her. But maybe this isn't just him. They're in the SGC, in the briefing room of all places. They'd spent so many hours in this room, so now to sit here like they do feels illicit. It thrills her in a way she doesn't want to examine, or next thing she'll be jumping him in the gate room or something.

"So, if you want me to move, you have to move first," she hears him say and forces herself to focus on his words before she braces her hands on the desk, intending to get up. A rational and responsible part of her brain is hyper aware that they're running out of time. The rest of her is just hyper aware of him.

Jack's arms tighten around her torso, keeping her in place. "Oops, I think you're trapped as well," he says, smug.

Four minutes.

Perhaps the joke's gone a bit too far. What worries her is that she almost doesn't really care.

"Jack," Sam murmurs.

He must hear something in her voice, because he loosens his arms a little. "We'll hear 'em," he says.

She trusts him with her life, but it's still a relief to hear that though he's okay with pushing her, them, this far, he won't do anything to compromise her or her reputation. Even if she's fairly certain no one they're meeting with would think worse of either of them if they caught them sitting like this. The teasing they'd have to endure though, well, _that_ would be something else.

He splays out his fingers and his thumbs brush the underside of her bra. Her breath hitches in response and she hears him chuckle. Yep, her plan has backfired spectacularly. And she doesn't mind.

Three minutes.

"I'm so going to make you pay for this." Sam sighs, resigning herself to the really long next thirty minutes. Hopefully only thirty. She might have to insist.

Jack huffs out a laugh. "You started it! Now you're going to have to lie in the bed you've made."

She wiggles again, the groan he lets out is her reward and the thing that'll keep her going until they get home. "Speaking of beds, you're going to have to make the couch."

He lightly thrusts up his hips making _her_ groan. Maybe she should just cancel the meeting. There's still time, right?

They hear the elevator doors open and the voices sound too loud in the quiet of the briefing room despite the distance.

Jack's arms fall open and Sam scrambles to get on her feet.

She can't help but look at his groin and at least she won't be the only one desperately wishing they were at home. She hopes her face isn't too red.

Jack falls into a chair on the left side of the table that rolls back into another chair with a loud bang just as Daniel enters the room. Vala and Mitchell hot on his feet.

"Hey, guys," Jack says cheerfully, making a grab for the yoyo.

Daniel narrows his eyes at him. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jack says, voice high and innocent and Sam fights the urge to shove him.

"Uh-huh," Daniel says, looking between them.

"Can we just get on with this meeting? It's been a long day." Sam says, hoping to distract him.

Mitchell sits in the chair opposite Jack. "Yeah, I want to go home too. I have plans."

"Well, if it's something important, Cameron, I'm sure we can manage without you," Vala says sweetly, but her words are directed at Sam. She can’t know, can she?

Oh, she's _so_ going to make him pay for this.

Daniel sighs and Mitchell blinks at him. "What?

"Nothing," Sam says, a little more terse than she intends and slowly sits in her chair at the head of the table. It's still warm. "Daniel, can we please get on with this?"

"Yes, Daniel," Jack echoes her, "get on with it. We don't exactly have all day."

Mitchell opens and then closes his mouth, like he still has no idea what the joke's all about, and Vala snorts. She clearly doesn't know what the word 'subtle' means. Though maybe Sam only has herself to blame. Well, Jack too. Yes, she’d rather blame Jack.

"I don't even want to know," Daniel says, opening his notes.

"Know what?" Mitchell asks, confused.

"So, P75-365," Daniel says loudly, ignoring him, and Sam does her best to focus on the information he gives her.

She feels Jack's leg bump hers under the table, but doesn't trust herself to look at him.

This day can't end soon enough.


End file.
